Facets of Love
by Mapu
Summary: Four fics chapters written for the Classic Thunderbirds Forum's Valentine Challenge. Thanks to Quiller for the great edits.
1. Love and Loss

These four fics are in response to the Classic Thunderbirds Forum's Valentine Challenge. Just posted as one story with chapters for neatness sake.

--

Love and Loss

By Mapu 

NOTES:

Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me. What a great show!

This is about a father's love so it fits the requirements of the challenge but it is not a happy, sweetness and light type fic. Sappy… yes, but happy? No.

This story deals with the demise of Lucille Tracy, so be warned, death is involved. I'm going with the Marriott version of history here... isn't Thunderbird's cannon fun!

In the other version Lucille dies in an avalanche (with Jeff's father), that's too convenient and boring for me, but in the Marriott version she dies tragically at child birth having Alan, which is far more interesting. Especially since the details around the event are not specified. So this is how I decided it happened.

--

Jeff was unable to force his mind to accept what he'd been told. It simply could not be true. The day had started out normally, hectic but with anticipation of a great day of fun-filled adventure. It was meant to be a simple family trip to the city zoo and now Lucille was dead. Dead, it was such an unconditional and merciless word. He knew he should be feeling the pain of his loss but in truth he felt nothing, nothing at all.

The clamour of the over-crowded hospital hallway barely registered. People sat, paced or stood leaning against the walls, waiting wherever there was space. Some waited for treatment, others waiting for a loved one being treated and still others waited there because they had nowhere else to go. It was bedlam. Somewhere in the back of Jeff's mind he understood the magnitude of the disaster that he and his family had been caught up in. The storm had hit the city with no warning and sudden unexpected violence, an intensity Jeff had never seen before. His family had been travelling on the public monorail when the power of the storm had caused a catastrophic derailment.

Jeff could still hear Lucille as she screamed in terror and had clutched her nearest child, Gordon, to herself to protect him. Jeff had done the same, managing to grab and hold Virgil and John as the train tilted then crashed to the ground but neither parent had been able to stop Scott tumbling away. Carriage after carriage had followed them down landing on top of theirs, caving in the roof and trapping those that survived the impact, inside. He'd seen Scott drop toward the front of the compartment, his arms and legs flying until he vanished in the mass of other unrestrained bodies. Jeff still relived the horror of that sight in a flash every time he closed his eyes. He felt intensely guilty that he hadn't been able to save his eldest son from injury.

There was little doubt in Jeff's mind that it was that same horrible sight combined with her own injuries that had caused Lucille to go into labour. They both knew how dangerous that was, the scan taken just the day before showed the baby was not yet in a good position to be born. At the time there hadn't been any concern, the baby wasn't due for weeks yet.

Trapped in the wrecked carriage there was nothing Jeff could do as he watched his wife go into early labour. Lucille had tried to stay calm and tried her best to endure the pain without overly worrying her children and had begged Jeff to find Scott. Jeff had been torn, he wanted nothing more than to find his son and make sure the boy was alright but he didn't want to leave his wife in such a state.

In the end he'd gone to find Scott, crawling through the tangled wreckage. He'd found the boy huddled in a space between two broken seats, his dark head resting on his knees.

"Scott, are you all right son?"

Scott had looked up at him, tears in the blue eyes that seemed to take up his whole face and shook his head. "I'm ok, Father."

Jeff smiled despite the terrible situation, Scott took his role as eldest brother very seriously and would never admit to an injury, at least not verbally but the shake of the head had told Jeff all he needed to know. His son was not all right. That was when Jeff noticed Scott holding his left arm tight to his chest. Jeff held his arms out to the boy who without hesitation pushed himself up into his father's embrace.

"You're a good, brave boy, Scott. We'll get you to the doctor and you'll be all right."

By the time he'd carried his injured son back to the rest of the family his wife was obviously in far worse condition. They shared a glance over the heads of their children that conveyed all the fear and pain they shared.

"Mother, are you all right?" Scott asked.

Lucille nodded and tried to hide the pain of another unwanted contraction, her hand found Jeff's and she gripped it painfully hard.

It took the rescue workers nearly five hours to reach them and by the time they finally managed to begin removing the trapped and injured passengers Lucille was exhausted and struggling for each breath. Through it all her only concern was the baby. She begged Jeff again and again to tell her their unborn son was going to be all right. Jeff unhesitatingly promised her that everything would be just fine. He would have told her anything to keep her calm even though he knew there was a very real chance the baby would not survive. He hadn't allowed himself to even consider of possibly losing Lucille. The paramedics swarmed over her and rushed her away from him.

Her raised hand in a goodbye wave to him was the last Jeff would see of his wife alive.

Three of his four sons clung to him as they waited for the doctor to finish setting Scott's broken arm. Without Lucille the family seemed so much smaller, as though the heart of it had been torn away. The boys cried softly in their grief, even young Gordon knew something terrible had happened. Jeff wanted to comfort them but didn't know how. Each assurance that began to form in his mind died before it could be uttered. They were all lies anyway; nothing was ever going to be all right again. He had lost the love of his life and his boys had lost their mother. He stroked the head of a softly sobbing Virgil, giving the only comfort he could, and that's when it hit him. He had five sons now, not four.

"Mr Tracy?"

Jeff looked up into the haggard and tired face of a man, from his attire Jeff recognised him as a doctor. "Yes?"

"Mr. Tracy, I'm Dr. Brock, the emergency paediatric surgeon that worked on your son's case." From the seriousness of the doctor's tone Jeff knew it was not good news and for a moment fear choked him until he realised this doctor was referring to the baby not Scott. He felt relief, knowing he couldn't have withstood it had something happened to Scott as well.

"Oh, the baby you mean." Even to him the comment sounded cold and disinterested.

Dr. Brock seemed a little taken aback at his attitude but Jeff didn't have the energy to explain.

"We've done all we can for your son and while he is still alive and fighting, I believe you should prepare yourself. He is very weak and his condition is deteriorating. I don't believe he will make it through the night."

Jeff looked at his uninjured children then back to the doctor. "We're waiting for my other son, Scott, he broke his arm in the crash," Jeff said with no more emotion than he had before.

The doctor knelt to put himself on an eye-level with Jeff and true compassion shone in his eyes. "Mr. Tracy, I'm very sorry for your loss. I can arrange to have your sons settled for the night in our child care centre if you'd like, but I think you should take this opportunity to visit with your baby while you still can."

Jeff nodded it made sense, if only because his boys were all exhausted and needed the rest.

Scott was brought to the play room, converted to a sleeping area where several other children along with the Tracy boys lay sleeping under the watchful eyes of the hospital staff. Jeff stayed long enough to settle his eldest son down to sleep beside his brothers. It was an unusually simple task thanks to the pain medication the generally extremely active boy had been given.

"Father, are you going to see Alan now?" Scott asked.

Hearing the baby's name spoken for the first time stopped Jeff cold. Lucille had chosen the name the moment she'd known she was going to have another boy. Jeff had first thought Lucille would be disappointed to find out that she was carrying yet another boy but from the moment the obstetrician had told them the sex of the child she had been delighted. Lucille had claimed to have known from the beginning the child growing within her was a boy. Hearing Alan's name gave strength to the harsh reality of his wife's death and a stab of grief ripped his heart. Jeff couldn't speak but he managed a small nod for Scott's benefit.

"I can't wait to meet him," Scott muttered, his words slurring a little as the drugs in his system lured him into a deep, healing sleep.

Jeff watched his children sleep for a long moment , they were all he had left now. Rising he checked that theyhad everything they neededbefore leaving them in the care of the hospital staff.

--

Jeff entered the room with no small amount of trepidation. He wasn't certain exactly how he felt about this child but he couldn't help feeling an acute stab of pain at the connection between this new life, one that he did not know, and the one he had cherished deeply and just lost. The fact that the doctor told him the child would most likely not survive the night didn't move him beyond a vague feeling of disappointment. Lucille had been eagerly anticipating the birth of the child and before that morning Jeff too had been excited at the prospect of a new addition to the family, but that was before the events of the day. Everything was different now.

Because of this child his wife was dead, and even though he knew it wasn't the infant's fault, Jeff resented the child. A very large part of his mind, the logical and efficient commander facet of his mind said not to go in there. Pointing out that his presence would serve no purpose and it would be easier to leave the child to his fate, he had four other sons that needed him more. But there was a smaller, intensely insistent and impossible to ignore voice telling him that he had to go in. The smaller voice had a strength behind it that told him Lucille would be disappointed with him if he turned away from a child in need, even one who had caused her such harm.

The child was tiny, even for a newborn. Lying nearly naked under the warming lamps, the little life appeared even more fragile than Jeff had been expecting. What seemed to be a mass of sensors and leads were taped at several points to the delicate skin, a tube secured to the side of his face and fed though his nose supplied vital oxygen to the infant. Jeff noticed the blue tinge to the skin that even the warm red glow of the lamps couldn't completely disguise and knew that without the constant life support the child would already be dead. Periodically alarms chirped and buzzed from the machinery surrounding and suspended above the humidi-crib. Standing watch at the console that Jeff assumed regulated the life-support equipment a serious faced nurse monitored the readings. She spared him a glance and a sad smile before resuming her duties.

Jeff tore his gaze from the mess of machines to finally look at the boy. "You poor kid," Jeff muttered and was amazed when the little head turned toward him, obviously having heard his voice. Like a charge of electricity jolting through him Jeff could feel the spark of intelligence and awareness in his tiny son and knew the little boy was aware of him. He watched the baby struggle to draw breath, tiny fingers clasping futilely at the air in his effort. The alarm sounded again and Jeff willed the boy to make it. Again the baby breathed and Jeff stepped closer laying his hand on the side of clear plastic, as close to his child as he could get.

"Come on, keep breathing, boy."

Jeff knew it was impossible that the infant could have understood his words but he watched as the infant struggled to take yet another breath with a determination that amazed Tracy senior. Again and again the smallest Tracy managed the heroic feat and Jeff held his own breath as each challenge was met then overcome.

_He has his mother's spirit,_ Jeff thought with a smile.

The alarm sounded again, more stridently this time and the nurse moved swiftly to change some settings. Jeff found himself praying the boy, his son, would pull through. After a few interminably long moments of struggle the alarm stopped and Alan settled, still moving but not with the frantic actions of a few moments ago, his eyes now closed. More than anything Jeff desperately wanted to hold the little body and comfort his son. Alan looked so alone and fragile in the crib, undergoing what to an adult would have amounted to pure torture.

The realisation hit him and he looked up to the nurse. "Is he in pain?" he asked her.

The woman looked down at her tiny charge with sympathy. "A little. I'm sorry, but he's too weak and his body isn't able to handle too strong a dose of pain medication. Anything stronger than he's already getting may kill him."

Jeff murmured his understanding and thanks to the nurse for the job she was doing and turned his attention back to his newest son. He was impressed and a little humbled to see how hard Alan struggled to live. Lucille would have been proud of her son and there was no doubt she would have loved him. It hurt Jeff to know that she had never got the chance to meet the child she had carried. The memory of numerous late nights when the growing baby had been active enough to disturb Lucille's sleep came to Jeff's mind. He'd often stood quietly in the doorway and just watched, not wanting to intrude, as Lucille had sat in her rocking chair softly singing or reading to the unborn child in an attempt to comfort and calm him. It had been a beautiful sight.

It wasn't fair. Lucille should have had the chance to know her son.

Jeff frowned. Little baby Alan would never get to know his mother either. Even if he should win this fight and defy the doctor's predictions the boy would never know or feel the love the rest of the Tracy family had come to rely on from Lucille. The thought broke Jeff's heart. If only help had gotten to them sooner.

Alan, so young, so tiny, and needing to fight so hard simply to live had already lost the best this life could have given him; his mother's love. It seemed a cruelty of immense proportions.

Jeff closed his eyes against this new pain. When he looked again at Alan, who seemed to be resting and breathing a little easier, he whispered a vow to the child he now knew he loved.

"Alan, I swear to you. I will be by your side for as long as I am able. Live and through me, and your brothers, we'll see to it you get to know your mother."

Finita


	2. Love and Understanding

Love and Understanding 

By Mapu

NOTES:

Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me. What a great show!

--

"Hey, Scott, what's up?"

Even though the hour was late, John sounded cheerful enough. Still, Scott felt concerned and a little troubled that his brother would assume he'd only called because there was a problem.

"What makes you think there's a problem?" Scott said sounding a little more defensive than he'd intended.

John laughed. "Your face tells me. Let me guess…" John put his fingertips to either side of his head and screwed up his face in a parody of intense concentration. "… Wait, I'm getting something, I see a fight. A battle of wills between a figure of authority and a young, stubborn, reckless… You had a fight with Alan huh?"

"Very funny, oh mystic-one, and it wasn't a fight. Alan was sulking, being obstinate and I…"

"And you lost your temper with him." John finished.

Scott scowled at his space-borne brother but didn't disagree.

He sighed and relaxed in his father's customary command chair, leaning his arms on the desk in front. "I'm not really sure what happened. We started out discussing the mission and I, justifiably, read him the riot act. I mean seriously, John, that stunt of his today could of gotten him killed, we were unbelievably lucky it didn't."

John nodded and Scott knew he too had seen how close the family had come to disaster that day. "Then, before I knew it, we were in a shouting match."

"Right… and that doesn't qualify as a fight? What's the problem? Seems to me baby-brother was deserving of a first-class reaming from his commander."

Scott winced. "Yeah, but I went too far. I said something I shouldn't have. Something I didn't really mean. He got upset and now I don't know what to do about it. John, I just got so mad at him I lost control."

John was quiet for a long moment. "It seems to me that before you can fix the problem you need to figure out and define what it really is."

"What do you mean? I know what the problem is. Alan messed up, I got carried away. That's the problem, what I need is a solution."

"No, Scott, the real answer is to find out why you got carried away. We've all made mistakes from time to time, even you, but you've never lost control of your temper before. What was different about this time?"

Scott thought about it. "I don't know."

John frowned. "Could it have anything to do with the fact this was a train-wreck rescue? I don't know about you, Scott, but I'm always a little on edge whenever we're called out to a rescue involving people trapped on trains. I can't help but make comparisons to the day we lost Mother."

Scott shifted uncomfortably, he didn't like to admit it but he felt the same. Every train rescue reminded him of the day his family had been caught in the wreckage of a crashed monorail and his heavily pregnant mother had gone into early labour. From that day Alan had been born but they had lost their mother. Scott considered it as a potential reason for his loss of control and at last dismissed it. It may have contributed but it was not the reason, at least not all of it.

"I feel it too, John, but it's never interfered with my command before. Gordon nearly dropped a full load of loose debris on top of Virgil during the last wreck and I didn't loose it."

John puffed a small laugh, "Gordon might disagree, he avoided you for days after that particular post mission debriefing."

Scott shook his head. "This is different, John… I was different."

"Then if it wasn't the situation maybe it was the subject. Was it because Alan was the one in danger?"

Scott felt a flash of anger at John's implied suggestion that he cared more for the youngest Tracy than the rest of them. "Of course not!"

John smiled. "Scott, we all feel a little differently about Alan, you and Virgil especially. You were ten when he was born, you watched him grow up. Your feelings for him, and Gordon, aren't purely brotherly. You're effectively a surrogate parent to them, to all of us really. It's natural for you to feel a little protective. I'd be surprised if you didn't."

Scott shrugged, conceding the point. "I don't let that interfere with my job. Alan, Gordon, all of you mean the world to me but you're all adults, and in the field you're under my command. I've always tried to treat you the same."

Scott felt a little worried that he'd unknowingly been playing favourites in the field. Rescues were inherently dangerous, and it would be courting a catastrophe to allow his emotions to interfere with his decisions.

"Don't worry, Scott, you do treat us evenly. You're an excellent field commander. I was talking about after the event, when you turn back into our brother."

"You make me sound like I have a multiple personality disorder," Scott muttered unhappily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you had any personality at all," John grinned and Scott rolled his eyes. His younger brother was in fine form that evening.

"All right, so you think I might still feel a little parental toward Alan. I guess I do feel a bit of that, he is the youngest. I suppose it's not unreasonable that I might feel a little protective toward him, but that doesn't tell me why I got so aggravated with him tonight."

"I think it does, besides, with Alan, aggravation is not hard. Did I tell you he reprogrammed the computers while he was here last time, and now all I can get on the entertainment channels is country and western music?"

Scott grinned, "You might have mentioned that, repeatedly."

"It's on 24 hours a day, Scott! I'm actually starting to like it. Even Brains hasn't found what's causing it yet."

Scott laughed. "I guess you shouldn't have made that space-cowboy on his rusty steed comment about him and Thunderbird 3 then, huh?"

"Yeah, but who knew he was so sensitive?"

Scott felt his good humour fade away. "I did, and I hurt him anyway."

"Scott, whatever you said, Alan will forgive you for it. He loves you and he respects you, he'll listen. You just need to talk to him."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks John, I'll let you get back to your music."

"Thanks a lot and, Scott? Don't wait, talk to him tonight."

--

Scott found his youngest brother sitting on the outside retaining wall of the lower pool area, a spot invisible from the house but with an incredible view of the beach and the moonlit ocean beyond. He knew it was one of his brother's favourite places on the island.

Alan hadn't turned when he approached but Scott knew he was aware of him.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Scott asked.

Alan shrugged. Scott took that as permission and settled himself on the wall beside his brother.

The silence weighed heavily between them.

"I didn't mean it, you know, when I said if you could act so stupidly you shouldn't wear the uniform."

"Then why did you say it?"

"I was angry, you say things in anger that you don't mean. Surely you do that too every now and then?"

Alan nodded. "Yeah, I do, but you don't. You said it. You meant it." Alan's tone was calm but Scott could hear the hurt in it.

"No, I really didn't mean it, Alan. I was venting. You scared the life out of me and I overreacted."

"You never get scared."

"Of course I do. Alan, I watched my kid brother, someone I care deeply about, detach his safety line and climb down the side of a precariously balanced train wreck. You were dangling over a more than hundred foot drop. You could have fallen. I was expecting to see you fall. I was beyond scared. I was terrified. I know you are good with heights, that's why I wanted you on this rescue but I do not, ever, want to see you do something like that again. Do you understand me?" Scott's voice had begun to rise with the remembered fear and he had to concentrate to calm himself. He was trying to apologise to his brother, not start another fight.

Alan was looking at him now, a faint confusion in his eyes. "You asked for me?"

It was Scott's turn to feel confused. "Of, course I did. You're the best aerial man in the team. You have absolutely no fear of heights; even when you should, and you never let yourself get distracted from the job."

"I'm sorry, Scott. I didn't think it would be a problem. I was only off-tether for a few minutes. We needed to release the pressure from the hydraulic valve or we would never have gotten the doors open in time and I couldn't reach it with the line attached. If I hadn't done it those people would have died."

"I know, Alan, and while what you did may have saved lives, I am not willing to trade your life for anyone else's. Next time, and there will be a next time that you're faced with that kind of choice, make sure of your own safety first. If we start taking crazy chances, we'll eventually take risks that are going to get us killed. We can only rescue people if we are alive to do it, right?"

Alan nodded. "I get it. I'll be more careful."

Scott relaxed with a sigh feeling that at last they had an understanding between them. "See that you do. I only have a limited supply of little brothers and I'd hate to part with one. Ruin the whole set."

Alan laughed; an easy, light sound. "Can't allow that, I know how you older people get about your collections. Just like Grandma and her teacups."

Scott laughed too, "Yeah, only more annoying."

They sat together for a long time in companionable silence. Scott stared at the white-caps reflecting the moonlight until he noticed his brother's gaze was directed skyward. Following Alan's gaze Scott looked to where he knew Thunderbird 5 orbited. The space station's construction and security measures made it invisible to observation but both knew exactly where it was.

Scott smiled. "You do know John is going to make you pay, don't you?"

Alan flashed him a grin. "It's worth it."

"I'll remind you that you said that." Scott tried to stifle a yawn. "I'm heading to bed, you coming in?"

Alan shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll stay out here a little longer, keep John company for a while."

Scott nodded his understanding. He'd seen John do the same thing when it was Alan's turn for a rotation of duty on the station. "We're good though?"

Alan looked up at him and smiled. "Always."

Scott stood, resting a hand on Alan's shoulder for a moment and giving it a squeeze of affection. "Good. I'll see you in the morning."

Scott made his way back up the steps toward the house. Before turning the corner that would put Alan out of view he looked back. Alan made a small figure sitting alone on the wall with the huge vista of ocean and heavens behind him, but his back was proud and straight. John was right that he still felt protective of Alan but Scott knew the bulk of his feelings for his youngest brother came from more than that. Alan was very much like himself, in many ways. They had similar interests and skills, and of all his brothers Scott felt he understood his youngest sibling the clearest.

He respected Alan and loved him not just for the child he had been but for the man he had become.

Finita.


	3. Love and Jealousy

Love and Jealousy 

By Mapu

NOTES:

Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me. What a great show!

--

Alan couldn't help it. Since the first moment he'd realised that he truly loved her his heart skipped a beat, he lost track of whatever had been in his thoughts and he could feel a self-conscious flush of red pulse through to his normally pale face any time Tin-Tin came close. He hated how vulnerable his fair features made him feel but despite the embarrassment he couldn't help but to return Tin-Tin's soft smile. Not even the fact he currently sat in an extremely advanced prototype racing car about to head out onto the track for a high speed test drive could give him the same intense thrill that a simple smile had done.

Tin-Tin helped him adjust the position of the pit communications and telemetry connector cable mounted to the side of his helmet so that it wouldn't snag or tug against anything and annoy him while he drove.

"Is that all right?" she asked making the final adjustments and securing the unit in place.

Alan turned his head from side to side testing it. "Yeah, it's good."

Alan gave her a confident smile and started the engine, enjoying the deep resonant sound and the pulsing rhythmic vibration that was a palpable indicator of how much power was waiting for him to unleash. Alan checked his instruments to be sure everything was working as expected. He looked up to find Tin-Tin studying her data pad.

The data pad and its contents was the real reason they were at the track. Brains had found he needed to secure several high-end performance engine components for his latest addition to International Rescue's assets. He and Tin-Tin were tasked with securing the items Brains had listed and they were using his racing career as a cover for the supplies mission.

There was little doubt that if necessary Brains would be able to produce the parts to equal precision but it would take time. Valuable time that their engineer and resident genius could better spend working on his inventions. Besides, this way Alan would also end up with a new racing car and a few hours of track time. It wasn't often he had a chance to mix business with fun and intended to make the most of the opportunity.

The concentration on Tin-Tin's face caused a thin crease to appear between her brows as she organised her priorities. Supplying an outfit like international rescue with the technology and parts it needed to function was a mammoth task of organization and precise attention to detail. Add that complexity to the need for secrecy and simple resupply trips took on all the intricacy of a fully-fledged rescue mission. Alan waited until Tin-Tin finished and looked at him.

"All set?" he asked her.

Tin-Tin nodded. "I'll need about an hour and forty minutes."

Alan grinned at the prospect of putting the car through its paces for that long. "No problem, just signal my watch when you need me to come in."

"All right. Please be careful, Alan."

Alan nodded. "I will. You take care too."

While he would be on the track testing the performance of the engine and providing a highly visual diversion, Tin-Tin had the real mission of securing a consignment of the items on her list from the hopefully very distracted pit-crew. It would be a tricky job for Tin-Tin to get what they needed without raising suspicion.

Alan revved the engine to clear any carbonisation and then let the motor idle for a few moments, allowing it to warm up. Tin-Tin turned away to begin her part of the mission and Alan watched her leave. For a moment all thoughts of racing were put aside until she vanished from his view, then he moved the car out onto the track. He waited until another track user was well clear before accelerating in pursuit. This is fun, he thought, but he felt a momentary pang of regret that he couldn't share it with Tin-Tin.

Alan could still recall with startling clarity the exact moment when he recognized that he was falling in love with Tin-Tin as more than just a friend. Not that Tin-Tin was hard to love. Incredibly intelligent, stunningly beautiful, graceful, kind, and thoughtful, Alan had never met a woman quite like her. She even smelled great, a sweet spicy scent that was wholly hers. Alan felt sure he'd be able to recognise that scent anywhere at anytime with little or no effort, but so far he'd only sensed it when in Tin-Tin's presence.

Love had come unexpectedly, hand in hand with jealousy. They had been working on a supply mission very much like this one, except that time Tin-Tin had been the diversion, posing as a freelance interviewer for a prestigious engineering periodical, while he had secured the much needed stocks. It had worked wonderfully and Tin-Tin had produced such an in-depth and detailed article that the magazine had actually picked up the story and published it, but for Alan the whole event had been a trying ordeal. The design engineer who was the subject of the interview had become very attracted to his interviewer, even asking Tin-Tin out on a date.

Alan had been incensed when he'd found out and had fallen into an extremely dark mood. It had caused problems and a huge fight between them that had lasted for days after their return, overshadowing the success of the mission. Alan knew that a great deal, if not all of the problems they'd had were his fault but it had taken him a while to figure out what had caused it. Alan caught up to the slightly slower car on the track ahead and taking an inside line executed a perfect pass through the apex of the corner, ending up several car-lengths ahead of the other driver. Alan wished everything in his life came as easily as racing.

As a Tracy and a racing champion Alan never had any lack of attractive offers from many of the various women he'd met. Fortunately he'd seen the calculation and estimation in their eyes that he could recognise from some of his older brothers more spectacular and disastrous romances. He had no desire to follow suit and for the most part had refused them. Unlike Scott, Alan Tracy did not have a reputation as a billionaire playboy. What was the point of being the younger sibling if you couldn't learn from the elder's missteps?

His current problem was a little different. He was in love with the perfect woman but had no way to tell her. Alan pushed the accelerator down a little more, testing the car hard. The tires gripped the track and held traction, barely drifting at all as the vehicle swooped through the steeply banked curve. He'd been testing for almost two hours and felt very comfortable in the car. The machine performed far better than his expectations and he let himself enjoy the excitement of the moment. The thrill passed and his thoughts returned to Tin-Tin. It was plainly obvious what a woman like Tin-Tin had to offer him but what did he really have to give her?

He had money and the Tracy name, two things that he knew didn't interest Tin-Tin in the slightest, but apart from that he really had nothing to offer someone like her. Because of the secrecy, his job offered no glory or reward, only the strong possibility of a short life ending in sudden death. What kind of incentive was that? Although he'd always thought Tin-Tin looked absolutely amazing in black, Alan would do almost anything to spare her the kind of pain that mourning his loss would bring. Every time he looked into her eyes he knew without doubt that if she asked it of him he would even give up International Rescue, but he also knew she would never ask. Tin-Tin was just as dedicated to the ideals that powered International Rescue as he was and a great deal more valuable to the organisation than he could hope to be.

Her engineering skills were second only to Brains' and she had a confidence and ability communicating with people that was nearly as good as John's. Even those in the grip of near panic responded to her, a skill Alan had never mastered. Alan had never seen Tin-Tin loose her temper or display any impatience with anyone but him.

The thought gave him pause and he realised it was true. He was the only one who Tin-Tin seemed to get cross with, and she did it often. Virgil, who teased her mercilessly at times, never stirred her temper. In fact the teasing actually appeared to amuse her.

The more he thought about Virgil and Tin-Tin the more he could see how much they liked each other. Alan thought about what that could imply and his heart ached. Could it be that Tin-Tin didn't feel about him the way he felt about her? Could she even prefer someone else, maybe Virgil, to him? The idea had some credibility and it hurt.

Virgil had everything. He was even-tempered, reliable, confident and incredibly talented with his music and art, all things women were said to look for in a man. Alan had none of that. It would be no surprise at all if Tin-Tin were attracted to his older brother in his stead.

Though Alan loved Virgil dearly, if it came to it he knew he would fight for Tin-Tin's love. If she really wanted Virgil over him, she would have to tell him that to his face and Alan would do everything he could to make the decision hard for her.

So preoccupied by his disturbing thoughts Alan almost missed the small scatter of debris and slippery oil slick on the track that had been dropped by one of the other cars. He reacted instinctually with a speed honed through countless rescues and hours of track practise. Pulling the car up high on the track, as close to the guard-rail as possible, Alan managed to avoid most of the spill.

The inside tires caught the very edge of the spill and at the speeds he was travelling the spin he felt the car slide into was unavoidable. The car slipped from his control slewing wide to the right. The back of the car spun around throwing him hard against his safety restraints. His shoulder slammed against the doorframe with brutal force and he felt a flash of pain. Alan initially fought the slide but the vehicle had too much momentum to force the correction. Turning the wheel into the spin Alan let the car go through an entire revolution, his foot clear of both the brake and accelerator, then at precisely the right moment he dropped the gear and slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator, turning the wheel against the spin. He prayed that enough of the oil had already been burnt off by the spin. If not his actions were going to make his situation much worse.

For a moment it seemed like it wasn't going to work and Alan prepared himself for a violent crash into the fast approaching racing barricade, then the car began to respond.

The tires squealed in protest to the punishing treatment Alan gave them and the air filled with the pungent grey-blue smoke of burnt rubber. After a few wild twists and fish-tails he once again had the car under his control.

"Alan! Alan, are you all right?" Tin-Tin's alarmed voice came through his helmet communication system. Tin-Tin was obviously in the pit area and had seen his near disaster.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tell the crew to warn the other drivers there's oil on the track coming out of turn four."

He heard her pass on his warning then she was back speaking to him. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, sounding much calmer than she had.

"I'm fine. I'm bringing her in. I think I've damaged the tires."

He could feel a definite difference in the way the car handled. It was likely the tires had worn unevenly in a patch as the car had slid. It would be unsafe to drive at high speeds on them anymore. Tin-Tin had obviously finished her mission so it was time to come in anyway.

He pulled the car up into the pit with a satisfied sigh. He'd really enjoyed the chance to exercise his racing skills.

Tin-Tin stood a short distance away watching him with her arms crossed over her chest. Alan pulled himself from the car and unzipped the top half of his racing suit, pulling it away from his body and letting it dangle from his waist. With the crew chief he examined the badly worn areas on the tires. He'd been right to come in; he doubted the rear-right tire would have made it more than a few laps. He took his copy of the race telemetry for later study and thanked the crew before joining Tin-Tin.

Tin-Tin didn't look happy. Alan tried a smile which she didn't return. A thin, delicate finger stabbed into his chest. "You promised you would be careful, Alan Tracy!"

Alan frowned confused. "I was careful."

"Careful? That was careful? You won't be happy until you get yourself killed doing something idiotic."

"Idiotic? I was racing a car! I'm a race car driver, it's what I do." Alan rubbed at the fast forming sore spot on his shoulder where he'd hit the side of the safety cage. Tin-Tin's eye caught the action and before he could move she'd closed the space between them and was gently pulling away the sleeve of his fire resistant undershirt.

"Oh, Alan, you're not all right." Tin-Tin murmured in a soft tone as she examined the deepening bruise, her cool fingers lightly brushing over the damaged area.

"It's all right, it doesn't hurt," Alan assured her, feeling a little confused by her sudden change of mood.

"Let me take you home. I'll fly."

She took him by the hand and led him away. Alan shook his head in confusion. A moment ago she'd been angry with him again, now she seemed protective and caring. Alan greatly preferred the second mood. When she looked at him and treated him this way it gave him hope that he, not Virgil, had a chance with her affections.

"Okay. My arm really is a little sore," he said, playing on his injury a little to keep her in the preferred mood.

It worked. Tin-Tin slipped her arm around his waist to give him support as they walked. With the dazzling sensation of her touch and the heady scent of her body in such close proximity, the pain from his injury was barely noticeable.

Alan felt his face flush red and smiled.

Finita.


	4. Love and Sacrifice

Love and Sacrifice

By Mapu

NOTES:

Thunderbirds belongs to Carlton, Gerry Anderson Productions and people who are not me. What a great show!

--

Virgil had always wondered how far he would go and what type of sacrifice he would be willing to make in order to protect one of his brothers from harm or death, now he knew. He'd heard the old bible quote, "Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends," a number of times in his life but he'd never really appreciated exactly what that meant before. He angled his face so that he could breathe in the rapidly narrowing space between the water and the rock roof. He was exhausted but knew he had to fight for as long as possible. In a rescue every second of survival counted. Above him Gordon's injured body filled the only available air pocket, his red hair plastered wetly to his pale, slightly grey face. Virgil smiled up at the fear he saw in his brother's eyes, and vowed to make the next few minutes as easy on the other man as he could.

Given proper medical treatment Virgil knew that Gordon would be fine, his injuries were debilitating rather than life-threatening. A little bed rest and care would soon see Gordon back to usual energetic self, but it still hurt to see him in pain. Virgil only wished he could spare him even more pain but the muddy brown water was fast filling up his breathing area and soon Gordon would be alone.

"Virgil, no …" Gorgon called to him as he took his last breath and the water finally closed over his face. Virgil let his body sink downward to be hidden by the muddy water, not wanting Gordon to watch his final moments.

At least Gordon would live. It had been a close thing. Virgil did not want to die but it really was a small price to pay if it meant even one extra minute of life for his kid brother.

It was amazing how fast everything had gone wrong.

The mission complete and the trapped surveyors on their way up out of the tunnel in Alan's company it was left to Gordon and Virgil to gather the equipment and make their own way out of the underground tunnel system. Virgil had been near the top of the ladder, ascending to one of the higher levels when they'd heard the water rushing toward them down the tunnel. Virgil knew he would probably have time to escape but Gordon, who hadn't started climbing the ladder yet, wouldn't. So he'd stayed and tried to help him up. They were terrible minutes.

"No, save yourself!" Gordon had yelled moments before the water hit.

Virgil had just pulled harder at the safety line attaching them together. "No way! Climb, I'll pull you up."

He reached down, actually grabbing Gordon's hand in his own before the water hit. For a moment Virgil even believed it might work, but then Gordon was torn from his grasp. The tether jerked at him violently, nearly dislodging him from the ladder. Even then Virgil knew he had a chance. All he had to do was release the tether and climb to safety and he would live. Instead he let go of the ladder, letting the water take him and concentrated on pulling Gordon closer.

The current was swift and turbulent, tossing Virgil's body around and crushing him into the tunnel wall a number of times, but he could tell the current already had less power then the initial deluge that had hit Gordon. Every time the current took him to the surface Virgil took a gasp of air but he never stopped pulling on the rope that joined him to his brother. He knew he had very little time, if he didn't get to Gordon quickly he would certainly drown.

When he did reach Gordon his brother was unresponsive and limp in his grasp. Virgil quickly pulled the other man into his arms and forced his head above the water's surface. Gordon made no attempt to breathe and Virgil felt the first stirring of true fear.

_I'm too late._

More by luck than design Virgil felt his leg brush over the raised edge of a submersed platform and acting quickly managed to pull himself and his precious burden up onto it. The current had much less speed there and Virgil was able to release the fear that his brother's body would be pulled from him. He dragged Gordon up what appeared to be a set of steps cut into the wall of the tunnel.

"Hey, Gordon, looks like we got lucky. This could be one of the tunnel construction rest-stations."

Gordon made no reply.

Virgil carried Gordon up the steps grunting under the weight once the water no longer supported his body. The rest station was small, barely bigger than a large closet, but it was higher than the current water level and for the moment dry.

He laid Gorgon on the top step, slightly larger and wider than the others which formed a bench, and checked his vital signs. He felt neither breath nor a pulse.

"No, Gordon, don't you do this to me," Virgil muttered as he cleared his brother's airway and performed artificial respiration.

For a while there were no other sounds apart from the rush of water, Virgil's harsh breaths and whispered counts as he worked with absolute concentration.

Gordon returned to life and consciousness in an explosion of violent coughs as his body expelled the slimy, brown water from his lungs in several savage convulsions.

"That's it little bro', come on back." Virgil moved him into the recovery position to make breathing easier.

The coughing was harsh and deep but it was the sweetest sound Virgil had ever heard.

Gordon's eyes opened but he didn't focus on Virgil for a while. Virgil continuously encouraged him until the amber eyes finally turned in his direction and he could see the spark of recognition in their depths.

"I though I was dead," Gordon croaked, his voice rough and barely recognisable. Coughs still wracked him and there was no doubt they were painful.

Virgil smiled at him in relief. "Nearly, but not quite."

Gordon frowned then glared at him. "What were you thinking? You could have been killed! You should have let me go."

Virgil shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm glad I didn't."

"Never thought I'd drown," Gordon mused but his voice was showing the strain of usage and the words were hard to understand.

"Gordon, be quite and let yourself rest. You didn't drown, I got to you in time. You're going to be fine."

Gordon looked around. "Where are we?"

"Still in the tunnel, in one of the construction workers' rest-stations I think."

"We're still underground?"

"Yes, and will you be quiet? Your throat has been injured from the muck you swallowed."

Gordon frowned. "What about the flood water?"

"Will you stop talking? It's still flowing and I don't think its going to stop any time soon."

Virgil looked back down the steps. The water had already begun climbing up toward them. It was a little disconcerting to watch.

"Are we safe here?" his younger brother asked, unknowingly echoing the same question that was on Virgil's mind. Unfortunately the truth was an answer that he didn't think Gordon would like to hear.

"Gordon, please shut up. I sent an emergency signal from my watch. Scott and the others know we need help, so relax will ya?"

"How long do you think before they come?"

Virgil sighed. It was obvious Gordon had no intention of taking his advice to rest. "I'm not sure. We were swept a fair distance from our original position. I don't know how far it is to the next exit, but the fact that this rest-station is here indicates that it's probably far away, so it might take them a while. Why, you got a hot date?"

Gordon smiled weakly. "No, it's just that I'm hurt, my stomach is really sore, and I don't know how bad it is."

Virgil felt his blood run cold. He lifted Gordon's uniform jacket. A deep red bruise angled up his brother's stomach and across his chest. As carefully and gently as he could Virgil felt the area. To his immense relief and despite Gordon's sharply hissed breaths from the pain, the injury didn't seem to be life endangering. Virgil could feel no areas of rigid distension that could indicate internal bleeding. Still the faster they could get him to medical help the better it would be. He would need to be monitored to make sure he didn't develop a lung infection anyway. Gordon was destined to spend a little time in the infirmary being fussed over by the whole family as he recovered.

Sometime during his examination Gordon passed out and Virgil winced in sympathy for the pain his little brother was feeling, but at least he was quiet and resting his strained throat at last.

Virgil brushed Gordon's hair away from his forehead and rested his hand on the unconscious man's shoulder. "You're going to be fine Gordon. I promise you that."

Virgil wished he was able to talk to his family and find out how far away the rescue was but they had been out of direct contact since entering the deepest areas of the tunnel at the beginning of the mission. He had no doubt that the family knew they were in trouble and would be working hard to reach them. Virgil just hoped they would be quick, he was beginning to get a bad feeling that time was running out. The water had already begun to swirl around his feet. He looked up at the roof, lit only by his wrist torch and knew that somewhere far above Scott was directing the urgent efforts. If anyone could figure a way to find them it would be Scott.

Virgil stood to examine his surroundings in greater detail. Scott and the others would be working as fast as they could but there had to be something Virgil could do to buy as much time as possible. As Father was fond of reminding them, there were always options. The walls and roof were made of rough stone but appeared to be even except for the sightly darker patch directly over Gordon's head. Virgil shone his light in that direction. The roof sloped steeply upward for several meters to form a short vent. Probably originally an area to capture the smoke of cooking fires as the rocks still looked blackened by aged soot.

The thing that gave Virgil hope was finding a solid metal hook set more than halfway up the chute. Working methodically he shifted Gordon into place and using the tether cord, safely secured his brother into place with his head as high up the vent as he could manage. He was just finishing, the water already to his waist, when Gordon woke up.

Confusion flashed across the younger man's face at finding himself virtually tied to the rock wall. "Virgil, what are you doing?"

"Hey, how're you feeling?"

"Fine, what're you doing?" Gordon repeated looking down at him. Virgil avoided his eye.

"The water's still rising," Virgil said instead of a direct answer.

Gordon looked at his surroundings and the narrow pocket of air his body was lifted into then down at his brother. "What about you?"

Virgil shrugged. "There's only room for one," he said simply.

Gordon began to struggle, his hands searching the rope for the releases. "No! No way."

Virgil stilled his brother's hands with his own. "Gordon, stop that. Think about it, what good will it do for both of us to die? Besides, this is a precaution only. There's still time."

Gordon shook his head in denial but the resistance went out of him and he coughed. On some level Virgil knew Gordon had to realise he wasn't physically able to keep himself afloat in the rising water for any length of time and that to release himself would only make things harder for both of them. Gordon pulled his arms up to hug his chest and turned away from Virgil.

Virgil was worried. The only time Gordon isolated himself like this was when he was in great pain. "Are you okay?"

"I can't do it, Virgil. I can't watch you die."

Virgil reached up to place his hand on Gordon's chest, patting it reassuringly. "I'm still betting on Scott."

Gordon shook his head.

Virgil sighed. "If you have to, you can do it, Gordon. You can do it because you're a Tracy and we never give up, and you can do it because I love you and I'm asking it of you."

"Oh man, Virgil, don't do this to me."

"I want you to live, Gordon. It's no more than what you would ask of me if our positions were reversed."

"No I wouldn't!"

Virgil puffed a laugh. "Of course you would. Don't think for a second that I don't know it."

Gordon found Virgil's hand and they held together as the water rose.

Virgil had barely the space to breathe even with his face angled upward and had begun to feel the first stirrings of the fear he'd been denying. When there was no time left he took his final breath and let himself sink downward away from his brother's view. He heard Gordon calling for him and wished he could offer the other man a final comfort. This would be the hardest thing Gordon ever faced.

Something touched Virgil's shoulder then gripped it hard pulling him backward. He turned and recognised what had to be Alan in a dive suit through the gloom. He fumbled for the diver's mask held out for him and pushed the mask to his face. Virgil quickly cleared it and took a deep breath of the clean sweet air. He pulled the strap over his head and adjusted the mask into a more secure position.

"Virgil! Are you all right?" Even through the distortion of the mask's communication system Alan sounded worried. Virgil nodded, giving him the diver's ok sign and took another deep breath.

"Yeah, good timing, thanks, but Gordon needs help."

Alan returned his nod. "Don't worry. Stay here, I'll get him." Alan handed Virgil the tank his mask was connected to and left to help Gordon. Virgil slipped into the shoulder straps and settled the tank onto his back. Within moments Alan returned supporting Gordon wearing a similar mask as his. Gordon hugged him fiercely for a moment.

Alan took the lead and showed them the way toward the submersible scooter anchored in the main tunnel at the entrance to the rest station. Once all three Tracy boys were securely mounted and Alan had began to drive them to safety, Virgil let himself relax.

Gordon put his hand on Virgil's shoulder. "Let's never do that again!"

"Deal!" Virgil promised.

It was an easy promise to make but Virgil knew that if ever same sacrifice was again demanded of him he would gladly make it.

Finita.


End file.
